Clothes Make the Crush
by EntrancedCat
Summary: Sandi discovers something about herself after she discovers that she and Daria have something secret in common. This was originally posted as part of nightmaster000's "Iron Chef challenge secret admirer" on ppmb. I don't own Daria; this is meant purely for the entertainment of Daria fans.
1. Chapter 1

Clothes Make the Crush

"I think that's a great idea, Quinn." I granted. "Having the football players model the latest in mesh practice jerseys at the next pep fest will only increase our popularity over the cheerleaders. Make it so."

Before Quinn had a chance to react I turned to Stacy. "And Stacy, those love-in-Tokyo hair beads are a definite trend-setter must-have. I would love to have a pair in blue and white to try tomorrow."

Now Quinn and Stacy were looking at me in confusion. Even Tiffany's face was slowly adopting a befuddled look. I had only her left to add to their bewilderment.

"Tiffany, those low-heels are so slenderizing. That was such a good choice."

Tiffany smiled slowly and nodded, happy that someone had confirmed her waspy figure.

"Thaaannks, Sandi."

"I'll get a few samples from Cashman's sporting boutique to the football team." Quinn smiled. She was probably secretly plotting my overthrow as Fashion Club president but I could afford to give her this small sop.

"Thanks, Sandi. I'll run to the store right after school to pick you up a pair." Stacy said with her usual timid squeak. She was probably waiting for me to bring her down a peg or two but that could wait for tomorrow or the day after.

"Let's all have veggies sticks with creamy low-fat dressing at my place tonight, girls." I offered.

They all accepted gladly. The unwitting trio moved off, smiling sincerely and a bit uneasily, at least I was happy to think I had achieved my desired effect.

My reading about Oriental potentates and despots was apparently paying off. Compliment your minions one day and invite them to lavish parties then threaten and berate them the next. Repeat as needed at random intervals.

Still the experiment was in its early stage. I would read and study more, using my knowledge to keep my place on top of Lawndale's heap.

" _Good training for college and the real world, Mother"._

I walked to the last class of the day and the only one I did not have with any other member of the Fashion Club. The feeling under my skirt made me walk taller and with greater purpose and I was happy to note that my stride seemed to be especially cowing to the unpopular people who were slowly scrambling to get out of my way.

Who would have thought that a simple pair of underwear would have such an effect on a girl's mood? These panties felt so good to walk or sit in, not in a sexual way although I had to admit there was an undertone of that, but sensuous and well, happy.

 _"For fifteen dollars a pair they should be as advertised: The best panties in the world."_

Expensive, yes, but I was certainly worth it. And I delighted in having a bit of secret apparel which I did not have to share with anyone. One pair for each day of the week and supposedly following a scientific color code. Each was labeled in Italian on the inside; _il lunedi_ I wore today for Monday and the color chosen was a bright orange. Meant to inspire confidence as if I needed that. Still every little bit certainly helps.

I deemed the color coding and the Italian a bit of ''gilding the lily''-one of the few worthwhile things I had learned from that feeb O'Neill. My mouth tightened as I thought of how Father would have phrased it: "polishing the turd" in the crude way he had started speaking in recently. "Toughen up the boys. Get 'em used to the real world." was his excuse although I thought he only wanted to make Mother angry.

I rounded the final corner to my class and came upon Quinn's sister, yes, sister. I squelched the slight feeling of embarrassment as I recalled that I had seemed to be the last person in the school to know that Daria was not her cousin. Who cared about such trivialities anyway? Daria and her art friend Jane gave me a bored glance as they closed their lockers.

The floors had been filthy since Ms. Li started cheaply paying ninth graders to clean instead of a full complement of trained janitors. That must have been why Daria took a long stride forward then slipped, ass over teakettle as Father would undoubtedly have put it, and did a commendable shoulder roll before ending up sprawled on the floor.

And I ended up with a long look up her ugly black pleated skirt to a bright orange pair of underwear at the top of her trim legs. I stopped cold in my tracks and goggled at her.

"Can't a girl practice for her Hollywood stunt-girl auditions without everyone looking?" Daria said or something equally stupid. After checking that she was all right Jane laughed and said something else equally inane as she helped Daria up and brushed her off. They loafed away.

I had a retort but bit it off as I glanced around. Luckily no one else was in the halls to see her fall or me gawk at her.

" _It can't be. She can't have my underwear, my brand, it's mine. That exclusive catalogue assured me it was exclusively sent to me and only me."_

I replayed the scene in my mind. No, it had to be true. There was no mistaking that bright orange, obviously high-quality fabric spread across that little rear.

" _Get a grip, Griffin. It's not like either of us will go around sharing what we wear down there. And gym's over for the year, thank you God. Well, who knows what she shows or does with Jane but that one's not going to tell anyone either."_

 **SG SG SG SG SG**

"Thank you, Stacy. I can tell these are the finest quality of hair beads." Stacy beamed as I magnanimously accepted her offering of a pair of love-in-Tokyo beads which looked to be made of a good quality jade; I would perform a more in-depth assessment when everyone had left. "Perhaps later you can help me select the best dresses to wear with these?"

Quinn and even Tiffany were staring at me as I gave Stacy one or two additional trifles of praise. Then the tray of low-sodium, low-fat crackers which I set down in the center of the table distracted them even as it showed my generosity.

"Stacy, could you tell us what the first order of business is for this meeting?" I asked.

Buoyed by my unaccustomed compliments, Stacy spoke in a brighter than usual voice.

"Thanks, Sandi. We tabled review of the main features of _Waif's_ latest issue from last meeting."

"With the end of school nearing," I started. "I thought the most important issue in _Waif_ concerned tips on exhibiting our legs in the best manner possible in summer shorts and dresses."

The three parroted their agreement as I opened my copy on the table and turned to the article. Turned to the article and stopped dumbfounded starting at the first illustration.

The magazine showed a pair of girls standing side by side in front of some sort of height scale, I think it was supposed to be like a police lineup but the girls were smiling at each other. One girl was my height, exactly five-foot-seven. The other.

" _She's Daria's height."_ I realized I had unconsciously been gauging Quinn's sister's height ever since they came to Lawndale High. _"Five-foot-two. And Daria's much more beautiful."_

"Sandi? Sandi? Are you okay?"

I realized Quinn and Stacy were talking to me. Tiffany had found something shiny to check her reflection but came around to gawking at me too. I closed my mouth.

"Gee, Stacy, Kah-winn. Can't a person collect her thoughts before she makes an important pronouncement? Perhaps one of you would like to review articles and make notes next time?"

I had not planned to start on the powerful, critical despot mode just yet but the illustration had distracted me to my default. I let Quinn and Stacy comment further on the article while I replayed Daria's slip and fall in my mind's eye. The shorter girl was wearing short shorts as recommended to show off her trim, proportionate legs.

 _"And Daria's legs are more proportionate and trimmer and sleeker and…and I want to see all of them. I wish she would take off those high boots and even just wear some flats in that ugly, teasing, ugly black skirt of hers."_ I shook my head, drawing glances of confusion from all three. Somehow I made it through the rest of the meeting and bid farewell to the Fashion Club.

I have always prided myself on my ability to face reality however odd or surprising it might be. I went to my room and securely locked the door. I stood in front of my mirror, looked myself in the eye and announced quietly.

"Alexandra Tamara Griffin, you are a lesbian." Now the disturbing pronouncement. "And you have a crush on Quinn's sister."

" _Crush? No, you are smitten. As smitten as you wish every boy—no every girl—were of you."_

"Sandi." Mother knocked on my door. "Sam and Chris are playing soccer with a package which came for you. You should know to look for deliveries and take care of your things."

It was with almost blessedly distracting umbrage that I stormed downstairs to find my brat brothers kicking a soft-sided package around in the hall. Fortunately the container was a tough plastic which the finer mail-order shops used to send their goods.

"Stop it, you little twerps. Give me that."

"Sure, Sandi. Think fast!" Chris lined up his kick and booted it to me. He and Sam looked disappointed when I caught it without flinching, turned on my heels and went back to my room.

Safely behind my locked door I inspected the package. It was from the color-coded, Italian-phrased, day-of-the-week underwear line. But I had not ordered anything more from them. Curious, I opened it carefully and found another plastic wrap with a week's worth of panties. And a packing slip addressed to Daria Morgendorffer.

" _Exclusive for me only? The company shall hear from me. But…I need to get these to her. I know how good they feel and then there's the whole smitten with her involvement."_

I could not let Daria or any Morgendorffer have any idea these had come to me. But I wanted to let her know someone cared enough about her to pass them on. I bit my lip in thought. My eyes fell on the newspaper.

A quarter-hour's work with scissors and glue and careful choice of fonts and point sizes and I had a serviceably anonymous note: **"Dear Daria Morgendorffer, These came to my house by accident. You have good taste; this is exquisite fabric. Enjoy. Your Secret Admirer."**

I sealed the unlabeled inside pack in a large bubble-wrap envelope and put it, the packing slip and my note into a non-descript gift bag and headed out the door. I barely listened to Mother's inquiry about my destination and her instructions to buy low-fat yogurt.

My heart beating quickly, I parked the car two blocks from Quinn's house, concealed myself with a scarf and walked rapidly to their front door. It was dark and no one was about. I left the package on their front step and ran after ringing the doorbell.

" _I must admit this is exciting."_ I thought as I drove home to tell Fluffy my new secrets.

The next day I was on pins and needles as I walked to school. Then disappointed as I found out that it was senior skip day-another event no one felt the need to tell me-Daria and the rest of the seniors did not show up, not that Daria and Jane needed an extra reason to skip school.

" _Is she trying to do that whole anti-fashion as fashion thing? That's so hard to pull off. But still that skirt is timeless in a weird way."_

" _I wonder if she has more than one pair of those boots."_

" _I must go through my lip gloss and find the right shade for her. Then to Cashman's to buy several fresh tubes."_

I amused myself with these and other pleasant thoughts until near end of school.

" _Those panties come only in a week's worth at a time. Why does she need more than one set? Did she buy a gift for...Jane?"_

My heart froze.

That night Fluffy once again heard my secrets, consoling me as only a cat can.

The next day I managed to avoid Daria until the last period when I had to walk by her locker to my class. Daria stood in my way.

"Er, hum, hrm, uhm."

"More eloquent words were never spoken in Lawndale High. You. Me. In the girls' can now." She commanded and led the way not looking to see if I were following. Jane gave one of those tiny lop-sided smiles that they must practice on each other and slipped away.

The restroom was deserted fortunately although I don't think Daria would have cared. She turned and stood between me and the door. She rubbed the back of her head.

"Thanks for returning my unmentionables to me. Sorry for the trouble."

" _Unmentionables? She's so cute."_

"Er, how did you know?"

"When I didn't get the package on time I called the company to track it, of course. Some inexperienced or bored phone slave told me they were sent to you."

"So why do you need two week's worth?"

" _Eek, I just let on that I knew she had another set. Did she catch it?"_

Of course, she caught everything.

"How do you know I have another set?"

"I SAW LONDON, I SAW FRANCE, I SAW DARIA'S UNDERPANTS. And I have the same set!"

"EEEAP." We both shrieked. I cursed Quinn for that noise I'd picked up from her and Father for that crude ditty he taught Sam and Chris.

"Ah, yes, my fall." She blushed redder than Friday's pair. "I got a second week's worth as a gift for Quinn. After all, as you apparently know, they feel so good."

Then needing to explain or excuse herself. "Quinn and I are frei...frein...friends. Sort of."

Daria looked at me cannily.

She said, "il mercoledi."

"Green." I unhesitatingly responded.

Then she stepped closer, very close to me.

THE END


	2. Chapter 2: The Gifts of the Cynics

I had so much fun writing in Sandi Griffin's voice that I wanted to do a second chapter. Many thanks to WingZero for beta-reading and making suggestions which made this tale a stronger, more satisfying piece.  
WingZero pointed out that there's a month's duration between the chapters. Filling in the month is not in my immediate plans but who knows, inspiration might strike.

Chapter 2: Clothes Make the Crush

The Gifts of the Cynics

"Miss, miss."

The clerk didn't approach as quickly as a Cashman's employee might come running to wait on the Fashion Club president but she got up from her position behind the counter and gave me my needed attention. As she approached I noted for future reference and possibly recommendation to the Fashion Club that her name tag read 'Monique'.

Stationery Jerry, reputedly Lawdale's finest paper products merchant even though it was situated on dingy Dega Street, must have been slumming to hire a Goth type clerk. Still, I had to admit that the red streaks highlighted her natural raven tresses. Her eyes were almost obsidian black and were tastefully set off by her cranberry lipstick.

"Miss, is that black paper journal made of, like, acid-free paper? I want the precious memories which will be entered therein to, like, last the years."

"Yeah," she pronounced. "That's acid-free. It's, like, good paper. I bought one for my boyfriend to write his lyrics in. Silver ink on black paper, Trent said that really inspires him. We have other gel pen inks that really stand out great on black. And you can use 'em to write on your black jeans too. Hey, if you want, I can show you other black paper journals, some with cover designs."

I doubted Daria would want a journal with cover designs but I found myself intrigued.

"Please lead the way."

Monique found that amusing, she chuckled as she turned and made a follow-me gesture.

"Here's an interesting journal." She flipped open a display model. "Every other page is made more for sketching, a bit more textured for a three-d look, I guess. The other pages are for writing. There's, like, lined and unlined selections too for all these."

"And here's a journal with your basic skull-and-crossbones, bombs, rocket ships and tanks on the cover for the basic tween boys, right next to your basic tween girl version with pegacorns, ponies and rainbows. Tell you the truth, I like the skulls better myself. It's all good stuff, like, acid-free, opens flat and all. We don't sell crap journals like you find in any five-and-dime."

"I'll take two with the tanks and bombs," I found myself saying. "And that sketching one too in addition to a couple of this plain journal I found first."

"Great. Oh, we only have one of the boy's life kind out here. Just a sec."

She went through a door marked "Employees Only" and called out, "Dad, do we have more of those journals with black paper. You know, the cool kind of cover like you gave me for Christmas when I was twelve."

She came back with another journal bursting with explosive cover illustrations.

"Great! We had another back in stock. Now, are you set for pens? Any of those gel jobbies will show up great on this black paper, except the black ink, I guess." She made a dramatic gesture at an opposite wall with bins of pens. "Here, I'll take the journals to the till while you pick some out."

I had found a journal with racing cars on the cover and I had selected a "tween girl" model. Monique looked pleased as she carefully stacked seven black volumes in her arms and marched to the register. She was whistling a tune I recognized from the hefty metallic music my brat brothers were beginning to bother me with, titled "Enter Ratboy" if I recalled correctly.

" _Green ink, yes, white ink, silver, oh, oh wonderful, they do have bright yellow ink. Her favorite colors on black pages. She'll love it. I hope. Oh, coral ink, I need three of those. Seven journals? How many more pens? This is almost as much fun as buying for myself. Hmm, maybe I should get a plain cover journal just for me?"_

Somehow my fingers continued gathering up pens of red and green and other colors and never found their way to the journals before I carried my selections to Monique. Her dark eyes glittered as she got up to help me with the clutched pens overflowing in my hands. I felt like I did when I was ten; Stacy and I had found a patch of wild strawberries and carried brimming armfuls back to our mothers.

" _Almost the last time you were happy with anything I did for you, Mother."_ I throttled that thought before it took over my mind.

"Oh, you should have asked for a basket or my help. Hey, you made some great selections. For grad gifts, heh? You got good taste. Even senior boys will be tickled by the skulls and stuff."

I favored her with a small smile. "Well, two journals and some pens for graduation gifts, the rest because I am overcome with the spirit of giving."

"I hope you're overcome again with said spirit in our shop; remember, we have our Christmas in July sale coming up." She made my scant change for the hundred-dollar bill I handed over.

 **SG SG SG SG SG**

"And so, Fashion Club members," I began. "I have an important announcement as the first and possibly last item of business on this special meeting which I thank you for being able to attend."

I bit my lip. Stacy readied her pen over her secretary pad. Quinn assumed her waiting-for-me-to-make-a-faux-pas vigilance. Tiffany tore her attention from her makeup mirror.

"I must place myself on fashion sabbatical for an indeterminate duration." I sighed and waited for their reaction.

"Oh Sandi," Quinn began. "Just because you accidently dressed in primary colors in the daytime? That's no reason to leave us leaderless. You said there was that power failure which hit only your house and you had to dress in the dark."

"I kissed your sister." I told Quinn. Then I gained courage and continued with more confidence. "I kissed your sister. I kissed Daria. And I kissed her before our fifth date."

I hastened to fill the expected shocked silence.

"So by the unwritten but firm bylaws of the Fashion Club I must place myself on fashion sabbatical. I cannot maintain the helm having disgraced the examples we need to maintain for the popularity-challenged students. Quinn, I have the fullest confidence in you to uphold our high standards as you ascend to the Presidency. When you need advice in the difficult times ahead, as you surely will, I will be there to guide you."

"Fassshion sabbatical," Tiffany drawled, surprising me a bit that she was the first to speak.

She withdrew her cell phone and pressed a single key. "Hi, Bret, I have time to go to the quarry tonight if you still want to. You do? Yeahhh. Okay, pick me up at 8:30. What? Yes, I can wear that red mini cheongsam if you like it sooo much."

"I need to place myself on sabbatical too." Tiffany announced. "Or I will after tonight; I think."

To my open-mouthed astonishment, Stacy and Quinn produced cell phones of their own and did their own quick key pressing.

"Hi, Mr. Dewitt-Clinton. Yes, this is Stacy Rowe. Is Ted…," I heard Stacy say before Quinn's voice overrode hers. "Hi Jeffy, do you want to take me dancing late Friday night? Yes, Jeffy, slow, close dancing. No, Jeffy, flowers and chocolates are enough, this time. Oh, can you tell Joey he can take me dancing Saturday and tell, uh, Jasper that he can take me Sunday? Great! Thanks."

Tiffany had made another call in the meantime. All three closed their phones and we sat looking at each other for a moment before the four of us collapsed in tears.

"The end of the Fashion Club," Tiffany wailed.

"Like the end of an era. I'll miss you all so much." Stacy sobbed and sniffed.

"You three are the best friends any girl could ever have," Quinn asserted.

"So, shall we meet at Cashman's second Summer Jubilee Sale on Saturday to discuss how to most profitably use our newfound free time?" I proposed, wiping my tears.

We all made promises to meet on Saturday. Their eyes opened wide as I brought out my packages.

Quinn asked, "Sandi? What's this?"

"I could not leave the Fashion Club without a small token of my esteem for each of you." I handed Quinn her gift, wrapped in her favorite color, coral. Stacy got hers in sky-blue and Tiffany in soft red.

They seemed not to know what presents were and just held them in their laps for a few puzzled moments. Then something like the glint Sam and Chris used to get on Christmas mornings entered their eyes. Being Fashion Club former members they carefully unwrapped the boxes without hurry or tearing.

"Oh, unicorns!" Tiffany admired her journal.

"Oh Sandi, it's beautiful. Thanks Sandi! How did you know I liked racing cars?" Stacy asked happily.

"Gee, Stacy," I answered. "I hope I am sensitive to my friends' preferences by now. We've only known each other since, like, forever."

" _And as Mother reminds me, it's good to know people's likes and dislikes for use as bribes or threats."_

Quinn smiled slowly and nodded as she met my eyes while holding her plain black cover journal. They rooted among the pens for a moment, soft whispers of delight on their lips.

"Let's sign each other's books!" Quinn proposed as she uncapped a coral ink pen. A few minutes later the first page of everyone's journal was covered with multi-colored hearts, rainbows and sincere best wishes.

I waved goodbye to the former Fashion Club, no, my friends, a quarter-hour later. I closed the door and turned, coming face to face with Mother. Sam and Chris were behind her, grinning as though they knew something.

"Eep," I jumped. "Mother, please, I want to go up to my room and talk to, uh, play with Fluffy a bit."

"What did I hear? No more Fashion Club? And you kissed Quinn's sister? That, that little garden gnome?"

" _Thanks for listening at the door, Mother. And for rating your only daughter's preferences as less important than a defunct school activity."_

Mother got a look of calculation. "The cheerleaders are going to eat your popularity lunch. Yes, we have to talk about that, Alexandra Tamara Griffin. Still, kissing Quinn's sister? Hmm, she graduates this year, right? She won't be around next year. And I hear lesbians are very popular on college campuses now. Might help you get into a good school? Yes, you could start one of those gay/straight alliance groups at Lawndale. We did a story on something like that at the community college a couple weeks ago. I'll dig up the tape and we can review. Okay, yes, I can work with this."

Then from her an afterthought, "I wonder if Helen knows about this."

In the last year, much to her chagrin, I had managed to grow to be an inch taller than Mother. I drew myself up to my full height and surprised both of us by looking her directly in the eye.

"Mother, you will let Daria tell her mother about us in her own due time."

Mother's eyes widened at the first time I had remotely disagreed with her since my disastrous attempt to organize a middle-school dance. She pursed her lips thinly but I dare say she was almost pleased, perhaps. I was developing a headache and promised to indeed talk about it all later.

Sam asked, "You're dating Quinn's sister? Does that mean Quinn will come over more?"

I glanced at the hall closet, considered walking on by, but took the bag out anyway.

"Here twit. Here twerp." I thrust jet airplane and tank covered journals at Sam and Chris.

"And you brats can fight over the pens for all the concern it is of mine." I dropped the bag on the floor.

My headache was suddenly gone as I climbed the stairs with three pairs of eyes boring into my back. Fluffy greeted me at the landing.

 **SG SG SG SG SG**

Daria and I were safely locked in her room the next Friday evening. Her father had obliviously told me that Quinn was upstairs as he had let me in the door. Quinn only gave me a wave and knowing smirk as I walked past her room.

"il venerdi" Daria had greeted me. I responded in kind and kiss. I glanced down to enjoy the sight of my older, shorter girlfriend standing on tip-toe in those high boots.

Our secret greeting was to tell each other the day of the week in Italian. Well, not exactly a secret since we did it in public too but only Daria, Quinn, I and probably Jane knew its origin. Daria and I would have to discuss Mother's discovery later but for now I had a more pressing, pleasant agenda.

"One month anniversary," I announced as I gave her a box wrapped in black crepe and a green bow. "Or graduation present if you can stand to wait a week before opening."

"I have always held that delayed gratification was an overrated—vastly—virtue." Daria's lips curved into a small, sincere smile as she sat down on her bed. She pulled me down beside her before she ripped off and threw aside the wrapping and yanked open the box.

Her eyes widened along with her smile as she flipped through the black pages and held up her pens tied together in bright yellow ribbon. I think the clear plastic pouch of sketchpad and pens at the bottom of the box made her even happier, marked as it was, "For Jane".

She stood up and, for Daria, bounded for her closet enthusiastically.

"I have a present for you, Tammy." She teased with the nickname she'd come up with for me. "I was going to wait until I left for Raft in September but, but let's not think about that now."

She gave me a box wrapped in the color of my favorite vegetable, a soft aubergine.

Daria stood there, bouncing in her boots and almost grinning in anticipation. I opened the wrapping and box with care. I could feel my eyes getting bigger as I held up a black skull, life-sized, I assumed. It was rough textured. I noted a bag of multicolored square and round chalk sticks in the box.

Daria told me it was a chalk board and excitedly pointed out and named the bones and jagged things she called 'sutures'.

"Dishwasher safe. And," she concluded happily. "You can open it up to write secret messages on the inside."

She popped it open on my lap. "I heart Sandi." was written in soft pink chalk on the inside. I looked up to see Daria gently biting her lower lip.

"I, I love it!" I said. And I did.

 **THE END**


End file.
